


We Knew

by LadySnowFo



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Changed Real Life Other Names, Just a Love Story, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Melancholy, Most Details Are Real, No dealing with the stressful stuff, Sad Timothée Chalamet, Soulmates, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-29
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-01 08:37:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20812235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySnowFo/pseuds/LadySnowFo
Summary: Despite all of his New York distractions, Timmy could not shake a profoundly empty feeling. Six months later, he felt part of him was missing. He missed Crema and Luca. He missed playing Elio. He missed Armie.Songs: NYLA, blackbear - Ends of the Earth, Lord Huron - Fool for You, Alice Smith - That's Life, Frank Sinatra - Keep Calling, SHAED - If I Get High, Nothing But Thieves - Bloom, The Paper Kites - Mystery of Love, Sufjan Stevens





	We Knew

It was Friday night in New York City, and Timmy was in bed thinking about him again. _This is so dumb._ He ran both hands through his curls. _Why am I still obsessing over this? _ He knew why. Six months after it was all over, he still couldn’t let go. After working on set all day, he’d gone out for a few drinks with some of the cast. A few turned into a few too many. As the night went on, he realized he was faking his smiles, forcing his laughs. Distraction wasn’t working anymore. He thought of taking an Uber but decided the walk would help him clear his mind. In reality, he was so lost in thought, so incredibly buzzed, he didn’t even remember which streets he had taken to get home. Once he was inside with his door closed, safe from the rest of the world, he stripped down and immediately got into bed. He grabbed his phone, put on his headphones, and chose a playlist. _The_ playlist. He closed his eyes. He had always been a daydreamer, blessed with a vivid imagination. Lately, all of his daydreaming led him to Crema, a small town in Italy where they filmed. Thoughts of Crema always led him to Armie. And thoughts of Armie led him to the most exquisite melancholy. There was nothing more beautiful than this spiral of sadness. It almost made him happy.

Timmy closed his eyes. He liked to start at the beginning. It was two years ago when they first met in Crema. He needed to learn some Italian and a few musical pieces for his part, so he arrived a month ahead of the other actors. He began taking lessons in one of the rustic old homes that would be featured in their film, Call Me By Your Name. Timmy was quite enjoying lessons with Hugo, a middle-aged virtuoso, and playing a breathtaking antique piano he would never be able to afford. They were in a state of deep concentration one afternoon, when Armie Hammer burst through the door with his enormous, warm smile. He said his name, shook their hands, and stood there smiling, looking back and forth from teacher to pupil. A look of discomfort slowly crept over his face as he realized he had interrupted, and that he was currently still interrupting. Armie quickly backed out of the room, apologizing. He left Timmy with a hilarious cringing smile before pulling the door closed. He had a palpable vibe; a combination of friendly, funny, and passionate. Timmy had seen several of his movies and he already knew Armie was talented. But this brief, awkward encounter had him looking forward to getting to know him personally.

After his lesson, Timmy found Armie outside at a long table reading his script. He stood in the kitchen’s exterior doorway watching for a moment. “Hello again,” Timmy said quietly, not wanting to startle him. He jumped anyway. “Hi!” Armie smiled, and Timmy beamed back at him. “I’ve been here a few weeks already; you want me to show you around town?” He immediately put the script down and stood up. “Yeah, let me grab my sunglasses!” They grabbed bicycles, the preferred local method of transportation, and rode and talked for hours while Timmy gave Armie a tour. He pointed out the bookstore and little corner store he visited, small cafes with outdoor seating, fountains, bridges, and the most beautiful countryside they had ever seen. They laughed at the vibration, riding over bumpy roads. They laughed when Timmy’s hat flew off and into the river as they were riding over an old bridge. They laughed when an old man yelled at Armie for nearly running him down near some outdoor shops.

By dinner that evening, they were like old friends. They enjoyed the best pasta either had ever eaten and some fine Italian wine. After dinner, they rode down to the little store for some beer. Timmy picked up a pack of smokes. They sat in his flat for hours, just laughing and talking, drinking beer and listening to music. Before they knew it, it was almost four, and they were most definitely drunk. Armie stood up and stretched. He held out his hand, “Smoke for the road?” Timmy obliged and offered him a light. They came together, almost bumping heads, cigarette and flame dancing around one another until the fire was lit. Armie took a drag and exhaled, obviously satisfied, smiling. Just when Timmy noticed how close they were standing, Armie began making his way toward the door. He turned back around after a few steps. “Hey, this might sound... weird.” He looked at the ground thoughtfully, and then back up at Timmy, one eyebrow arched. “Earlier, I was thinking it seems like we’ve met before. But that’s not it. I feel like I’ve always known you, man. Like, my whole damn life.” Timmy looked at the floor. Armie shook his head. “And I know that’s a strange thing to say wh-“ Timmy cut him off, “I feel the same way, dude. It’s fuckin’ crazy.” They traded small smiles, and Armie continued toward the door. “Well, see you in the slightly-later morning... Elio.” Timmy smiled. “Goodnight, Oliver.” It was their beginning.

When they first started filming, they were nervous, and both felt out of their element. This was a much more intimate film, in all possible regards, than either had ever done before. But their director Luca had inspired them beyond what they could have imagined. Luca didn’t want them to act. He wanted them to _become_ their characters while they were filming. Luca’s passion became their own. And everyone on set knew they were making something very special. Day by day, Timmy and Armie became like Elio and Oliver more and more until they _were_ them. The characters belonged to them. The lines were their own words. The physically intimate scenes could easily have been uncomfortable for them both. But they were able to let go completely, and explore a new world together, living as their characters. It was the warmest, safest space either had ever been given by a director. And the deep connection they felt while they were filming was transcendent; they spent all of their free time together. The crew often saw them riding bikes, teasing each other, or huddled together working on their script. Everyone basked in their happiness. It didn’t matter that Armie was ten years older than Timmy. Their chemistry was undeniable and immediately strong. It was the deepest, most complex bond either had ever felt. Soul mates, best friends, siblings, colleagues, all in a unique fusion. Both were crushed when filming came to an end, but then the movie became a massive hit. There were talks of possible Oscar nominations. Suddenly, there was a huge press tour with several awards show appearances scheduled. Soon, everyone was talking about the tragic end of Call Me By Your Name, the end of Elio and Oliver.

Timmy and Armie grew even closer on the press tour, with more free time to spend together. There were many free drinks, many shared smokes. Every interview included questions and comments about their chemistry. They took every opportunity to compliment one another. They teased and embarrassed each other. They sat close together and touched each other constantly. During several interviews, they were asked to read passages from racy fanfiction about their characters. The press ate it all up and the fans went insane. Social media erupted in photos and gifs of their interviews and speculation about their possible real-life romance.

They got to know each other’s families when the award shows began. Timmy met Armie’s wife, Rebecca (he found her hilarious and beautiful) and daughters Meri and Ava, who were three and seven. He even crashed on a couch in their home in LA. The children loved him, calling him Uncle Timmy by Armie’s suggestion. Armie loved Timmy’s younger sister Jodi and both of his parents. They all just immediately got along. When everyone was together, they had the most amazing dinners and conversations. Timmy never wanted it to end. Of course, normal life had to resume eventually. Timmy lived in New York, Armie in LA. They each had their own families and friends. And each had already been given amazing opportunities for new films, which meant new directors and new colleagues. There was other great work to be done.

Despite all of his New York distractions, Timmy could not shake a profoundly empty feeling. Six months later, he felt part of him was missing. He missed Crema and Luca. He missed playing Elio. He missed Armie. He sat up and looked at his phone. He had been careful not to text him too much. Once every few weeks at most. Keep it light, keep it casual, keep it funny. He didn’t want to push Armie away by being clingy. It was still evening on the west coast and it had been a few weeks since Timmy last checked in. He picked up his phone and opened a new text. He sat up straighter and tucked his dark curls behind his ears. If he was going to do this, he had to pull himself together.

T: Hey old man! How’s it goin? 😉

The reply came faster than expected.

A: S’up padawan? I was just talking about you

Timmy smiled.

T: Because I’m amazing... right?? I just got back from RJs. Too much beer is a thing. Thought I’d say hi.

A: Yep amazing. Or something. Too much beer?? I know not of what you speak

T: You know I’m a lightweight. You must show me your ways oh wise one 😌

A: Ok you’re buying the first round! 😝

A: How’s filming going??

T: It’s been great! Madden is awesome. Funny as hell but also super fucking talented. MF Rob Stark!!

A: Ugh Red Wedding 🥺

A: Wait… should I be jealous?

T: LOL no. He’s great to work with but he’s no Armie Hammer 😍

A: Good! No one needs more than one of me 😬

T: STFU 😂

A: Listen, I’m an old man and I don’t understand your fancy millennial acronyms.

T: 😂😂😂

A: How’s the anxiety?

Timmy was caught off guard. Armie had intimate knowledge of his struggles. He’d had a few panic attacks in Crema and a big one at the Oscars.

T: Doin ok. Focusing on the work.

A: You know I’m always here right?

A: You don’t have to wait every few weeks to text me 🙄

“Fuuuuck,” Timmy whispered.

T: I just get busy. And I know you’re busy.

A: Listen to me, Timothee Hal Chalamet. You are not an interruption or a fucking inconvenience. You’re my favorite human. Text me!

T: Ok

A: Promise??

T: Promise

T: Passing out… give my love to Rebecca and the girls!

A: Will do! Love you man

A: Take care of yourself Sweet T

T: Love u too

T: Night

Timmy stared at the screen. He closed his stinging eyes and smiled. He was so relieved. He felt more himself after that one short conversation than he had in weeks. After reading their texts a few times, he turned off his screen and put his phone on the nightstand. He turned the lamp off and rolled over. A few minutes later, he rolled back over and grabbed his phone. He read through the conversation once more and decided that was enough. He smiled and drifted off.

He woke around lunchtime with a headache. This was a good day to stay in bed, binge watch some shows, maybe read. _Wait… read??_ He suddenly remembered texting Armie the night before, but he couldn’t remember exactly what was said. His stomach felt sick. Drunk texting was a bad idea. Timmy grabbed for his phone, which fell with a huge THUD between the bed and the nightstand. “Fuuuuuuuuuck,” he groaned loudly. He rolled closer to the edge of the bed and reached down with his long arm. He retrieved the phone and unlocked the screen to see the message app still open. He quickly read through the entire conversation and was relieved to find he hadn’t fucked up. _You’re my favorite human. Love you man_. Timmy suddenly felt the urge to be productive. He needed to get out, get some fresh air. He swung his long legs over the side of the bed, stood up, and stretched. He put the music on random and headed for the shower. Between the steam and his minty shampoo, his headache improved. He pulled on a large black sweater and a pair of comfy skinny jeans. He popped a pod in the Keurig and wolfed down a banana. He was in a good mood at this point. He decided he’d take his coffee for a walk in Snug Harbor, his favorite park. He opened the Uber app and booked a ride. “Charlie" would be here soon, in his black Cadillac sedan. Timmy put on his sunglasses, grabbed his earbuds, and snapped the lid on his coffee cup. He sat on the floor near the door and put on his black and white checkered Vans. He stood up, scrolling through his playlists. “Chill Mix” was queued up and ready. He started to put his phone in his pocket, but pulled it back out and opened the message app. He tapped last night’s conversation with Armie and typed, “I miss you, Armand.” Before he could overthink it, he sent it. His heart felt light, happy.

The elevator opened as he approached. He smiled as he passed his shy neighbor, Eric. Sweet guy, but he hardly ever said anything. The elevator made several more stops on the way down, but he didn’t mind today. He wasn’t in a rush. He was feeling good, and he was going to enjoy it. He walked through the lobby, admiring the beautiful marble flooring and Bergmann piano, as he often did. Maybe he would stop and play a tune when he got back. Timmy stepped outside and stood there for a moment, with his eyes closed. The sun felt amazing on his skin. There was a breeze, and the temp was mild in the low 60’s. The perfect fall day. He set his coffee between his feet and opened his Uber app. He was watching the tiny car moving on the tiny map when a voice came from behind his left shoulder, “I miss you, too.” There stood Armie, grinning at him.

Blonde hair shining in the sun, he was wearing his typical light brown LA tan, big sunglasses, a plain navy t-shirt, skinny jeans, scuffed brown boots, and a huge smile. Timmy had almost forgotten just how god-like he was in-person. “Oh my GOD!!” Timmy shouted. “Come here, you beautiful, awful person,” he laughed as he wrapped himself around Armie. They stood there, holding tightly onto one another. Timmy’s heart was pounding. He finally pulled away, “Dude, what the fuck? But, like, in a good way.” Armie laughed, “I told you I was getting on a plane to New York.” Timmy felt like he was dreaming. “I hope it’s ok that I just… showed up?” Armie gave him the eyebrow. “Shut up!” Timmy pushed his shoulder. “Let’s take your stuff upstairs. We’ve still got like 13 minutes before the Uber gets here. I was headed to the park if you’re in?” Armie just looked at him, smiling. Timmy melted. He grabbed his suitcase and they headed inside.

There were several other people in the elevator, so the ride was silent. Timmy leaned against the wall and looked down at the floor, with his long curls hiding a faint smile. He couldn’t believe Armie had actually just jumped on a plane. He was flattered and very happy. He unlocked and opened his apartment door. “Bienvenue a la maison!” he swung his arm out in a goofy gesture. Armie stepped inside and put his case down. He took a deep breath and let it out. “It’s so good to be back!” Timmy pointed down the hall, “You can have your room again.” He headed to the kitchen to make another coffee for Armie. He grabbed a dark roast pod he knew Armie preferred, popped it in, and pressed the brew button. He rested both hands on the counter, closed his eyes and lowered his head. His heart was still pounding out of his chest. He just couldn’t believe Armie was here. It’s like the universe heard his wish. He felt an intense tingling pit in his stomach. He couldn’t wait to spend the day with him. “Whatcha doin?” Armie said softly, about 3 inches from his ear. Timmy jumped, “Jesus Christ!” He laughed and punched Armie in the stomach, which produced an exaggerated “OOF!” He snapped the lid on Armie’s coffee and handed it to him. “Your beverage, monsieur,” said in his French accent. “You know that accent makes me swoon,” Armie said smiling as he took a sip. “I’m just gonna grab my sweater, and I’ll be ready, Freddy.”

Timmy put his coffee on the small table near the door and ran his hand through his thick, curly hair. Armie walked in at that moment. Their eyes met and they smiled fondly. Armie put his coffee down and tied a gray and blue sweater around his waist. ‘’You ready, _ragazzo_?” With the last word, Armie poked his ribs and Timmy jumped. He poked him on the other side, and Timmy squirmed in the other direction. Timmy started laughing, which only encouraged his antagonist. He had a contagious, happy laugh that people loved. He was also extremely ticklish. Armie poked repeatedly until he couldn’t breathe. “Give up?” Armie grinned victoriously. “Please?” Timmy fake-pleaded, with his lip out. Armie was too smug. “You definitely missed me.” Timmy pushed him away. “Hell no!” They both laughed. “C’mon asshole, our Uber's probably here.”

Their driver, Charlie, was a very nice older man who enjoyed Sinatra, so they had some great tunes on their way to the park. There were so many things that Timmy had been missing, but one was how Armie would always sit so close to him. They could have an entire couch to themselves, and Armie would sit right next to him. It made Timmy feel special. Case in point, the Cadillac had a large back seat, but they were so close their knees were touching. Timmy was trying hard not to keep grinning like an idiot. He would just get it under control, but every time they looked at each other it would start all over again. While Sinatra’s “That’s Life” played, and Charlie hummed along, they looked out their windows at the city. It was a beautiful, sunny fall Saturday, and New York was so alive.

About a half hour later, they arrived at Snug Harbor and bid Charlie (and Frank) a fond farewell. Timmy got on the Uber app and gave him a perfect rating, and a nice tip. As he was finishing, Armie grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the entrance. “C’mon Timothee, we’ve got stuff to see!” Timmy tucked his phone away and they headed inside. They walked around for hours, admiring the greenery, the water, and pausing to take some selfies. Timmy created a hilarious IG story, and they laughed. He knew their fans would die, seeing them together again. They caught up on the past few months, talked about work, and talked about family. It was effortless, being with each other. It was like no time had passed at all.

They found a shady bench in one of the gardens and took a break. They both sighed as they sat down. “I’m getting old. What’s your excuse?” Armie teased. Timmy gave him a playful look, one eyebrow raised. “I’m a young... less experienced walker?” They both laughed. And there it was; their knees were touching again, and Timmy couldn’t stop noticing. “I’ve missed you a lot, man.” He looked up at Armie with a half-smile. “Shit man, I missed you more.” Armie was looking at the ground and smiling shyly. “I was worried you might forget me, here in the big fancy city, working on your new project with Rob Stark. You know, forgetting your hot summer fling.” He playfully pushed Timmy’s elbow with his own. Timmy smiled and looked down, his stomach in a triple knot. He looked up at Armie, one eye closed, and the other squinting to avoid the sun, “I remember everything.” Armie gave him a smile, but it faded quickly. He turned away, to look at the fountain beside them. Timmy immediately regretted using the poignant line from their movie. He slouched and put his head on Armie’s shoulder. They sat like that a few minutes, completely silent. Timmy felt like crying. “Oh hey man, I forgot about my playlist!” He offered Armie an earbud, which he happily accepted, and pressed play. They sat shoulder-to-shoulder, cool breeze blowing, admiring the sunny garden, listening to Lord Huron sing about the ends of the Earth. Timmy thought it was a perfect moment. He soaked it in, thoroughly.

The ride back was quieter. Timmy was lost in deep thought. He couldn’t help thinking about how Armie would have to leave. He definitely didn’t want to ask when. He wanted to avoid it and pretend like the answer was never. Armie tapped his arm, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Hey, you hungry?” Timmy smiled, “When am I not? You have something in mind?” Armie raised his trademark eyebrow. “Pasta?” Timmy nodded and smiled. “Yes! But showers first.” Armie leaned over and sniffed in his direction. “Yeah man, you smell like ass.” Their Uber driver busted out laughing.

Timmy let Armie have the shower first. He was lying on his back on his bed listening to music, nice and loud. While Alice Smith lamented being a fool, he thought about the perfect day they were having. He wished every day could be like this. It was unrealistic but fuck it; he was going to wish for it anyway. Armie made him happy. Armie felt like _home_. With that thought, Timmy felt a twinge of his familiar melancholy creeping in. He didn’t want to feel like that today. Not when Armie was right there with him. Timmy wanted to enjoy the moment, but he felt tears stinging his eyes. “Goddamnit,” he hissed, wiping his eyes, “Just stop it.” He sat up, composing himself. He couldn’t let Armie see him cry. That would undoubtably lead to questions, and he wasn’t ready for questions. Trying to explain why he was _so_ upset would be difficult. This was a friendship, based on mutual respect and a deep platonic love. Armie was his best friend and it’s completely normal to miss your best friend when you’re apart. Perfectly normal to dread them leaving. But at this point he knew the level of his feelings was not exactly typical. Timmy heard the shower shut off, so he got up and gathered his clean clothes. Armie came out in a huge cloud of fresh-scented steam, wearing a white robe and towel drying his hair. “Holy shit, that felt good!” He smiled and Timmy’s sadness dissipated.

The last time Armie was in New York, Timmy took him to an amazing Italian restaurant downtown. So Timmy knew that’s what “pasta” meant. It was nothing like Crema, but it was the closest he had been able to find. Timmy also knew the dress would be “semi-fancy” as he called it. He donned a blue suit with a slight sheen and a crisp white shirt. No tie. He ran a small amount of product through his curls to tame the frizz. A few sprays of his favorite cologne and he was ready. “Wowza!” shouted Armie, sipping a glass of wine from behind the kitchen counter. “I _love_ that suit, Tim!” He smiled. “Thanks! You look great, too.” This was an understatement. Armie was flawless. He was wearing an all-black checkered velour suit with a silver shirt underneath. No tie. He was absolutely stunning. They each finished two healthy glasses of wine and headed out. Timmy had a car and driver reserved for the evening. They laughed and talked on the ride, thoroughly enjoying this different, intoxicating version of the city. The bright lights and packed streets were somehow comforting to both of them.

When they got close, Timmy had the driver drop them off at a nearby park so they could walk a little. They were having a nice conversation on the way when a group of girls suddenly came running up screaming, “OH MY GOD!!!” They smiled while the girls each had their freak outs over Elio and Oliver. They were both always happy to sign autographs. One of the girls asked for a selfie. Just as the photo was being taken, Armie turned and planted a big kiss on Timmy’s face. The girls erupted into another wave of screams. Timmy looked at him and laughed. They both knew what would happen. It would only take this one small group of girls to create a firestorm of activity on social media. As they were walking away, Armie laughed. “I give it less than a hour.” Timmy smiled at him. “They haven’t seen us together in forever.” Armie pushed him, playfully. “We gotta change that, man.”

The restaurant was just as beautiful as they both remembered. Fairly dark, dramatically illuminated ceiling arches, small candlelit tables, classic art-covered dividing walls, classic instrumental Italian music playing. It was so intimate. Timmy had a table reserved for them, so they were taken straight back. They ordered a bottle of Prosecco and an appetizer. Armie was even more god-like in that lighting. Timmy hoped _he_ looked half as good. They traded funny stories about their respective projects while they waited for their food. They finished the bottle in no time. By the time the pasta arrived, they were both giggling. Armie had taken his shoes off under the table. “Mmmm oh my god this is amazingggg,” He gushed after his first bite. It was just a traditional marsala dish, but it was authentic, and reminded them of Crema. Timmy waved the waiter over and ordered another bottle. “Timothee are you trying to get me drunk?” Timmy smiled at him. “No man, I’m trying to get _me_ drunk!” They started giggling again. Armie cleared his throat. “What do you have to get drunk about, anyway? You’ve got an amazing life here in New York. What with all the delicious but fattening pastas!” Timmy laughed. “Ah yes, and don’t forget the rabid fans!” Armie gave him the eyebrow while taking a bite. “Speaking of rabid fans, anyone in particular catching your eye these days?” Timmy was caught off guard by the question. He looked down at his plate. “Uhh no, not particularly.” Armie looked shocked, stopping the glass a few inches from his lips. “How is that _possible_? You are New York’s most eligible bachelor!” Suddenly Timmy wanted to crawl under the table. This wasn’t a conversation he wanted to be having, especially half in the bag. “I don’t know dude, I guess I’m not feeling it?” He just smiled and sipped his drink. “Wow.” Armie was serious. “Don’t you get lonely?” As if directly answering Timmy’s silent prayer, the waiter came with their dessert at that moment. He was able to change the subject for the rest of the meal. They finished their second bottle and both pieces of cheesecake. “I’m glad it isn’t bathing suit weather here!” Armie joked while patting his stomach. Timmy laughed, “When’s the due date?” Armie threw his napkin in Timmy’s face. They fought briefly over who would pay. Armie won, but only with the agreement that Timmy could leave the tip. They got halfway out the door when Armie realized he didn’t have his shoes on. They broke into giggles. The car was waiting for them at the park again. Timmy looped his arm into Armie’s while they walked. “Listen, I’m fucking DRUNK!” Armie yelled. “Shhhh!” Timmy tried to hush him, but they just ended up dying of laughter all over again.

They crawled into the car. Armie put his arm around Timmy and closed his eyes. Timmy watched the streaks of bright light outside the window as they drove. He remembered Crema. He remembered lying in bed with Armie, sheets covering their naked bodies, the film crew and cameras surrounding them. He remembered how everyone else disappeared when he felt Armie’s breath in his ear. It had been so easy to touch him and be touched by him. Armie had caressed Timmy’s shoulder and Timmy caressed his face. He had wrapped his arm around and pulled Timmy close, their naked bodies touching under the sheets. Their kisses were special. Their mouths fit together perfectly. He remembered Armie’s breath smelled so good. Timmy had never felt that good kissing anyone. He felt like their entire beings were connecting when they kissed. It was easy to get good takes, because they were so natural together. Luca joked about the set being “molto caldo” often. Timmy had to pull himself out of those scenes, like waking from a dream. He wondered if Armie felt the same way.

Timmy opened his eyes to see they were only about 5 minutes away from the apartment. “We’re almost there.” Armie said softy and squeezed his leg. Timmy sat up and composed himself. “I almost fell asleep.” He said smiling, “I was having a nice daydream.” The car pulled up to the front of the building. “Oh yeah, what were you dreamin’ about?” Timmy was too drunk, but he was ok with that for the moment. Just a bit reckless. “Crema.” They arrived and somehow made it out of the car. There was a thickness in the air, as they both stood outside his apartment building looking at each other. Armie could see Timmy’s eyes pooling and shining in the city lights. He reached up and cupped the side of Timmy’s face. Timmy smiled and pushed into his hand. A single tear ran down his cheek. Armie gently wiped it with his thumb. Timmy took his hand, kissed it, and put his arm around Armie’s waist, pulling him toward the doors.

They came inside, took their shoes off, and Armie immediately headed into the hall bathroom. Timmy changed into a white v-neck shirt and his pajama pants. It always amazed him how good it felt getting out of a suit, after feeling so good putting it on earlier. As he brushed his teeth, he looked in the mirror, trying to center himself. At this point in the evening, he really didn’t care about much of anything. It was the “fuck it” point he often reached when he drank too much. It was liberating. He found Armie lying in his pajamas on the couch, in the fetal position. “You feeling ok?” “Yeah, just really fucking drunk.” Timmy laughed. “You wanna listen to some music?” he asked from the kitchen, pouring two glasses of water. “Sure.” Timmy put the waters on the coffee table and plugged his phone into the stereo. He put on a playlist. _The_ playlist. He didn’t realize until the first song came on, when he was already halfway to the couch. He considered going back and changing it, but he decided to leave it.

Timmy sat on the couch next to Armie’s head and put his feet up on the coffee table. When the next song came on, his stomach dropped. Maybe he wasn’t feeling as “fuck it” as he thought initially. Just then, Armie inched up and put his head on Timmy’s leg. He reached up behind his neck, gesturing for Timmy’s hand. He pulled Timmy’s hand down in front of his chest, holding it tightly. Armie always knew when Timmy needed him. Timmy calmed immediately. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the back of the couch. He waited for Armie to let go, but he didn’t. They stayed like that for a long time, eyes closed, holding hands, while Timmy’s most intimate playlist threatened to reveal all his feelings with each passing song. Timmy heard the familiar first few notes of Mystery of Love and he knew he couldn't take it. He squeezed Armie’s hand. “Hey man, do you want me to help you to bed?” Armie mumbled, “I want to stay with you.” Timmy felt like crying again. “Do you want to sleep in my bed?” “Yeah.” He slowly let go of Armie’s hand and inched himself out from under his head. He chugged half of his water and helped Armie up off the couch. This was no easy task, as Armie was a solid six feet, five inches. Timmy walked him down the hall, to the side of the bed and helped him get in. He tucked Armie’s feet up onto the bed and under the blanket. He got in on his side and turned the light off. Armie came to him almost immediately, reaching for him in the dark. He put his arm around Timmy and pulled him close. Armie fell asleep quickly, but Timmy was awake for quite a while. He knew the moment wouldn’t last forever, tucked under Armie’s chin, close to his chest. Timmy wanted to remember it all. When Armie went home, he would have the memory to hold onto. It was quite possibly the happiest he had ever been.

Timmy woke before he opened his eyes. He was still in Armie’s arms. His first instinct was to panic, thinking Armie would be upset to find himself in Timmy’s bed. Timmy opened his eyes and realized Armie was moving his fingers around on the blanket. “Armie, you awake?” he asked groggily. “Yeah. I’ve been awake a while.” “You feelin’ ok?” “Better than I’ve felt in a long time.” Armie squeezed him. Timmy didn’t know what to think. His stomach was freaking out; his mind was racing. There was a long silence. He tried to calm down, to stop overthinking. Armie began, “I want to stay here with you.” Timmy’s stomach flipped again. “Ok, um, I don’t have any plans today or anything.” “No, I mean, I want to stay in New York with you, Tim.” Timmy pulled back to look up at him. His eyes started welling. “Ok, well, I don’t know what to say to that, man. I don’t even know what to say.” His voice was cracking. He sat up and put his face in his hands, rocking forward into a ball. Armie sat up and rubbed Timmy’s back. “I’m sorry, Tim.” He didn’t want Armie to feel bad, but he couldn’t say anything. “I’ve just been fucking miserable in LA. I can’t stop thinking about Crema. About you.” The tears were coming steadily now and there was nothing Timmy could do to stop them. “I know you feel it too, Timmy. I’ve realized nothing and no one can even touch what we've got. I don’t want to fight it anymore.” Timmy got up off the bed, wiping his face and nose, taking deep breaths. He hated himself for letting the anxiety get the better of him. “I’m so sorry Armie, I don’t know what to say right now.” he said tears spilling down his cheeks. Armie looked at him with understanding. “This is why I came to New York. I had to come and tell you how I’ve been feeling. I was sure you were feeling the same way. But if not, just tell me, please.” Timmy immediately went and kneeled on the bed, pulling Armie into a huge hug. They stayed like that for what felt like forever. Timmy eventually pulled back to look at Armie’s face, which was now also covered in tears. He brushed them away. He placed a gentle kiss on Armie’s forehead, his nose, and then his lips. They had not kissed since Crema, but nothing had changed at all. Their mouths still fit together in that perfect way. Armie even had good morning breath. He pulled Timmy closer and kissed him deeply. Timmy confessed quietly, “I love New York, but I don’t love New York as much as I love you. I go where you go.” Armie placed a soft kiss on Timmy’s lips. With a twinkle in his eye, Armie looked at Timmy and said, “I love you, Armie.” Timmy melted.


End file.
